Succubus
I crouched low in the shadows of a narrow yard, watching a man and woman press against the side of a garage. Their mouths mashed together like this filthy alley was Paris in the spring. Since when did the stench of piss and concrete count as romantic? Humans never failed to amuse me.
I scanned their surroundings. Empty. No footsteps, no headlights. Just the hum of a distant streetlamp and the scuffle of shoes against pavement. My fingers curled tighter around the hilt of my dagger.
They broke apart, breathless. He whispered something, but I didn’t bother listening. If I strained, I could’ve picked up every word — perk of being what I am. But I wasn’t here to play spy. I was here for something far more entertaining.
The girl suddenly froze, panic flashing across her face. I felt my dagger itch in my hand.
Then came the slap. A sharp crack of skin on skin. She staggered, hit the ground with a sob. Rage surged through me like fire, begging me to act, but I forced myself still. Not yet.
He crouched, fingers clamping around her throat, mouth angling toward hers. I saw it, the pull, the slow siphoning of her life. That was my cue.
I stepped out of the shadows and dropped the veil masking my scent. The man’s head snapped up, nostrils flaring. His lips peeled back in a snarl, teeth too sharp to be human.
My grin widened. “Hungry, are we?”
He rose to his full height, smirking like he’d just won the lottery. “Two for one deal.” He licked his lips. “My lucky night.” Then he lunged.
I rolled aside, leather scraping pavement as his claws slashed air. Coming up on my feet, I brushed imaginary lint from my jacket. “Tell me you can do better than that.”
He growled, and the change overtook him. Black, leathery flesh split through his skin, his body tripling in size. Fingers warped into crimson talons. His stench (sulfur and rot) filled the alley.
A whimper at my side reminded me the girl still hadn’t left. My eyes cut to her, fangs flashing. “Get lost!”
She scrambled up, nearly falling over herself before bolting.
My attention swung back to him. Foolish bastard. In human form, my dagger would’ve been useless. But like this? He was meat.
“Looks like I’ll be your only meal tonight. If you can catch me.” I shrugged, smiling wide.
With a snarl he charged. I sprinted forward, dagger humming with a violet glow.
We collided hard. His talons ripped through my shoulder, heat blazing under my skin. I hissed and drove the blade into his stomach. His howl echoed, sharp enough to rattle glass.
I didn’t give him space. As he staggered back, I slammed into him, knocking him flat. My dagger rose and fell, over and over, each strike spraying dark ichor. His claws carved into my back, but I barely felt them.
A roar tore from my chest. I bent low, sank my teeth into his neck, and ripped. The leathery flesh shredded in my mouth. I spat the foul chunk to the ground, gagging at the taste. His eyes went wide, his scream wild.
Enough. I drove the blade into his heart.
The alley lit with black fire. His body writhed, then collapsed to ash.
I straightened, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, fighting the bile rising in my throat. Demon blood always tasted like acid, and I’d been stupid enough to bite him.
I plucked up my dagger, sliding it back into my boot. My muscles ached, shoulders screaming. I needed a drink.
The bar wasn’t far,the same one where he’d found his victim. I limped toward it, rolling my shoulder and cursing the slow healing. Definitely shouldn’t have bitten him.
The bouncer gave me a nod as I walked in, the thrum of bass vibrating through my bones.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked as I slid into a stool.
“Crown on the rocks.”
He raised an eyebrow but poured. I flexed my shoulder, already loosening. By the time he set the glass down, the pain was gone.
Darkfins. Lately, they’d been everywhere. Lower-level demons who stole souls not to survive, but because they liked it. Parasites, the lot of them.
I tossed a bill on the counter, ditched the straw, and downed the drink in one long swallow. The ice burned on the way down. “Damn.”
When I set the glass down, I caught someone staring. Baby-faced. Expensive shirt, manicured hands. Smelled like money.
I smiled. “Long night.”
He chuckled nervously. “I can tell.”
My eyebrow arched. Handsome, rich, and ripe for the taking. I tilted my head, studying him like prey. “Oh really? What else can you tell about me?”
He leaned back, pretending to think as his eyes wandered my body. “That you’re a sweet girl.”
The laugh ripped out of me, sharp and wild. Sweet. If only he knew.
When I finally sobered, I crooked a finger, drawing him closer. He obeyed, eager as a lamb. My lips brushed his ear. “Can you tell how badly I want to ride your cock right now?” My tongue flicked his earlobe.
His whole body shuddered. His pants tented in an instant, and he clutched my hand like I was oxygen. “I... I’ve got a room. Hotel, just down the street.” His voice cracked, cheeks flaming red.
I leaned back slowly, letting him drink in the smile curling my lips. “Perfect.”
I slid off the stool, dragging my fingers lightly along his arm as I stood. He scrambled to follow, nearly tripping over the stool in his haste. Men. Always so easy.
By the time we reached the door, I could feel his pulse thrumming in his wrist beneath my touch, fast and desperate. His scent was thick with adrenaline and want. Delicious.
Outside, the cool night air hit my face, washing the bar’s heat from my skin. I glanced back at him once, lips curling into a promise. He swallowed hard, and I could almost hear his heartbeat begging me to finish him.
I would. But not out here.
We turned down the street toward his hotel. His voice stammered something about the room number, but I wasn’t listening. My thoughts were already on the taste of him, the rush of life sliding into me when I fed.
He thought he was about to get lucky.He had no idea just how right he was.
